


Reboot

by Charming_Quill



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:57:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3682368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charming_Quill/pseuds/Charming_Quill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being found in an abandoned building, Springtrap takes his vengeance out on an unsuspecting security guard. But, why? What drove him into this state of madness? What caused his voracious taste for blood? Follow along Springtrap as he tries to kill the guard,and sort through his memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Main Attraction

Locked behind a door, long since forgotten and caked in dust, there lay a rotting costume. It was slumped forward, leaning against the walls. Water, mixed with dry blood, drizzled down the limbs. Tiny paint flecks were sprinkled on the smiling face.

The costume was one of a happy golden bunny that had been severely neglected. Gaping holes covered its body, and patches of fur were clumping on the floor. Its eyes were wide open, staring toward the wall unblinking. A part of the right ear was bent. 

Not only was the costume eerie, but the building was in no better shape. There was no light to speak of, in the dismal room. Squeaking rats scattered across the floor. The lonely howling wind rustled colored papers pinned to the wall. Water dripped down from the ceiling from previous rainstorms. Otherwise, the night was completely still.

Suddenly, a metal door creaked open, scraping along the tile floor. Two men grunted, pushing hard until there was a big enough gap to walk through. Switching on their bright flashlights, the men waved a couple others to follow them. The group ventured into the condemned building cautiously. 

“What a dump!” One man grumbled, after a pile of slimy trash he stumbled into collapsed upon him. Wiggling from the fallen debris, he squinted his eyes in the darkness. He kicked an old pizza box out of his way, and crossed his arms. “We’ll never find anything good in here.”

“Come on, Phil! It’s so creepy; it’s like a horror movie goldmine. There’s ton of material here to scare children with!” Came an enthusiastic reply from a teenage girl. She pranced around the room, magically avoiding bits of the ceiling and rusted pipes. Sighing, everyone else followed suit, picking their pathway carefully.

They started meticulously picking through piles of junk. There wasn’t much around: one girl found an am with a hooked hand. However, the leader of the troupe remained rather unsatisfied.

He was a young guy fresh out of community college. Stringy red hair was pulled back with a flimsy hair-tie. Oily skin shone in the dim flashlight. Grungy, crumbled jeans hung loosely at his waist, accompanied by a rumpled black shirt and bulky leather jacket. His stubby finger was pressed against his chin, as he surveyed the abandoned building. 

Managers were pressuring him to find something worthwhile for the upcoming Fazbear’s Fright attraction. So far, they felt it was absolutely boring. Nothing scary about broken up animatronic parts, or empty heads. They needed to find something in this mess, or else the attraction would be doomed before it even opened up. 

As he spun around trying to think of what to do, his eye caught a glimpse of a boarded up area. A smile curled on his lips. He bounded over there, after snatching a hammer from his tool-belt. Everyone else paid him no mind: they were preoccupied in finding their own treasures. That left the young man pulling out the nails by him lonesome self. 

It took a while, but he finally managed to clear away enough of the boards away to peek inside. At first, he was disappointed, as he shone his flashlight this way and that. It was not until he swept the light toward the wall. His eyes widened, and he happily cried out. “Dudes! You gotta come check this out! I found our new main attraction.”


	2. Life Renewed

The night had only just begun, and the security guard had already made his rounds. Nothing out of the ordinary. Eerie flickering lights created long shadows. Empty metal animal heads mounted on the wall. Tangled sets of wires hung from the ceiling. Beeping sounds of electronic game noises echoed through the hallways.

When the man in the blue uniform walked toward the arcade room, he stopped mid stride. Propped up by a flickering arcade machine, lay the golden bunny animatronic. Glowing in the green light, it was the pride and joy of Fazbear’s Fright. The guard cringed in fear. 

‘What is that thing?’ He thought to himself, while shivering. Its intense stare seemed as though it could pierce through his soul. Unable to bear to be in the same room with the abomination, he quickly left to report back to his desk and cameras. He had to tend to the ventilation system and cameras.

All was quiet when he left the room until, suddenly, the costume sprung to life. Its blue eyes searched the room, and it appeared extremely confused. ‘What is this place?’ He wondered, trying to speak. Only a raspy screech came out.

The bunny tried rattling his brain to remember how he had gotten there. Flashes of memories started to crop back into his consciousness. Tearing apart animatronics trying to rid himself of something he forgotten. Panic overwhelming him causing him to hop into a suit. And…

‘It’s me!’ His realization came rushing back to him. Beneath this deteriorating mechanical suit were the remains of his rotting body. His soul must have clung to the suit after death: only to be awoken by whoever had dragged him from his resting place. 

As this information sunk in, so did a bout of furious rage. Here he was, suffering the same exact fate as his victims. Trapped within a springy mechanical being meant for petty entertainment. A miserable existence to be sure. Like a spring-trap.

Springtrap. That’s what he decided to call himself, instead of his boring old name. He also decided now was the time to stand and explore his newfound haunting grounds. Stiff limbs that were woefully out of practice made it difficult to move. Springs creaked and groaned as he rose from the tile floor. With much effort, he strained his neck to the top corner of the room. 

‘Of course,’ he mused, while smiling. ‘A security guard is in the building.’ That was who he would take out his rage on. His soul longed for the rush of killing someone again. Blood running through his fingers once again. In fact, this development would make it easier. There was no fear of getting caught by authorities. Wearing a mask was what he had always done his entire life, so why should he not embrace it now?

Slowly, but surely, he got his bearings. It took a good long while for the rusted metal to bend. The floor shook with each heavy step. He finally reached the doorway, and came to a dilemma. Which way to the guard’s room?


	3. Cycle Continues

After pondering where to go, Springtrap determined to head right. It was merely a guess, since he did not recognize the premises. This was not a previous Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza location that he had worked at long ago. Though, he did notice a few pictures he remembered seeing children drawing. That, and there were pieces of animatronics scattered about. 

One room contained Foxy’s head. Springtrap hesitated a brief moment, wondering if any other spirits might be hanging around. He was pleased to discover that this was not true, so he chuckled to himself. Just seeing the animatronics faces brought back fond memories of screaming kids and pools of blood and stale pizza. ‘Good times,’ he thought.

Just then, while he was reminiscing, there was distant laughter that caught Springtrap’s attention. The noises were confusing. It sounded like the incredibly annoying babbling of balloon boy. When he was alive, he hated that sickeningly sweet child who lung to his cluster of colorful balloons. Every time he passed by, he felt the glass blue eyes watching him, as if to say the animatronic knew exactly the awful deeds he had committed. 

So, without hesitation, he followed the sound to that specific hallway. To his surprise and anger, there was no one to be found. ‘A rotten trick!’ He roared loudly in his shrill screech. Now, he was really on the prowl. Surging forward with a new sense of determination, he tried every which way he came across to reach the guard’s room. 

Some passageways failed: mainly the vents because the security guard had those pesky seals. Others meandered around, and he just ended up in one giant circle. Not to mention that the ear-grating sounds over the speakers were disorienting him.

Finally, he found what he was looking for: an open doorway without a door. Poking his head through the door, the animatronic was delighted to find the guard within the room. He was sitting at a swiveling chair staring intently at the camera screens. A bumbling idiot to be sure, so fidgety in his chair and twitchy fingers. Sweat poured down his face. It was as if this was his first encounter with possessed animatronics. 

Without making much noise, Springtrap dashed to the other end of the room. His circuits were charged with excitement. The chase of the victims was nearly as satisfying as killing them. He waited in quiet, eager anticipation for the guard to finally notice him. It was not until the guard lowered the camera, that he detected the danger right in front of him.

Springtrap leaned forward, and screeched. Almost falling backwards in his chair, the guard screamed. He leapt out of his seat, and made a mad dash to the door. However, the animatronic was too quick. He snagged his wrist, wrapping it so tightly that he heard the crunch of bone. More delightful screams.

Throwing the guard to the floor, the animatronic pinned him down by sitting atop him. The guard squirmed, like the helpless worm he was. His fragile neck was exposed, making for a tempting target. Strangulation was not normally his style (a lot less blood that way), but he supposed he could make due. Springtrap used his mechanical fingers to squeeze, until he crushed the guard’s throat.


	4. Burning to Ashes

The guard lay dead at Springtrap’s large feet when he stood up. His rage had completely evaporated into sheer joy. Standing still, he gazed longingly at the body. It probably remained warm, the decay already settling in. Blue tinted lips that looked so divine. He wanted to touch them with his bare fingers to feel if they were moist.

Dawning upon him that this was impossible, he suddenly felt extremely empty inside. What was the fun of killing people if he could not fully exploit the experience? It was not like the good old days, when he was alive. 

Deflated. Washout. Lonely loser trapped for an eternity in a disintegrating suit. Those were the words plaguing his mind. He sulked out of the room, no longer excited from his kill. No more thrills, or any sense of purpose. 

Now, he just wandered around aimlessly with no real point of existing for a few hours. All the while, he was pondering what to do next. Perhaps he only needed to kill someone else in order to regain his happy mood. A new sense of urgency sent him forward throughout the rooms. He hoped to find more people hiding within the attraction, but that appeared to be the case. The whole building was deathly silent. Even the air refused to flow properly. 

Alarms were loudly blaring giving off some sort of warning. Springtrap did not have the faintest idea as to what that would be. Red lights were flashing, irritating his eyes. What was setting that damn alarm off? The noise was maddeningly loud and pierced into his soul, causing him to shudder. 

The rage mounted once again. Erupting into a fit of destruction, Springtrap punched and kicked and roared. He created holes in the plaster wall in every hallway. Ripping arcades out of their spot, he tossed them across the room, listening to the glass shatter. He tore children’s drawing to shreds into a million white pieces. Even the fan was not safe from his wrath. 

While Springtrap was busy with this, sparks began to flash from a low hanging faulty wire. It scattered along the walls, and the pieces of paper. They instantly caught fire, which spread rapidly and built into a raging inferno. Orange flames flickered to the crumbling ceiling. 

The enraged golden bunny paid no attention to the disaster in the making. He kept beating up anything in sight until there was nothing else to crush. After rearing his head back and unleashing a roar, he focused his gaze upon the light that caught his eye. Only then did the realization dawn upon him.

Springtrap sighed in his screechy voice. There was no use fighting his fate. In fact, this seemed to be the only way to escape his horrific torment. Leaning against the wall, he fell to the floor. His body uncontrollably twitched as though he was having a seizure. Droplets of fluid leaked from his eye sockets as the flames drew closer. He knew exactly what was coming, and welcomed death with an open embrace.

It was not long before the structure overhead began to collapse. Fire consumed his golden-green fur. Springtrap could sense his soul slipping away, breaking from the metal skeleton. A comforting sensation washed over him like cool rushing water. He was now ready to give way to his salvation, as the suit was destroyed.


End file.
